Page 54 of A Kingdom This Cursed and Empty

The hybrid was mostly dead now, his screams little more than weak moans. A waste. Lisveth’s eyes met mine, wide and filled with tears. Fury clawed at me, and I stared her down until she dropped her gaze.

Why would I risk myself to protect these women when they couldn’t even control their own reactions?

I took a deep breath. “I believe if he’d known something, he would have told you already, husband,” I said.

Sabium slowly turned his head, pinning me with his gaze. I raised an eyebrow at him, my heart racing in my chest. With a flick of my gaze, I indicated the courtiers watching us.

He took a deep breath. That crazed light slowly faded from his eyes. “Oh, very well.” He waved his hand through the air. “Everyone out.”

The courtiers were silent, but they didn’t hesitate. There was no pushing, but the throne room was empty within moments.

Silence stretched. I took one moment to appreciate it, even as I steeled myself for Sabium’s rage.

“You forget yourself, myqueen,” he hissed.

A strange kind of recklessness bubbled within my chest. I angled my head. “I believe you are the one who is allowing your emotions to cloud your judgment. Myking.”

Surprise flashed through his eyes. “You dare—”

The door slammed open. I let out the breath I was holding. Sabium turned toward the door with a snarl.

“Forgive the interruption, Your Majesty. There has been a development.”

I glanced at the guard. Not one of mine. Hopefully, one of my spies would be attending this meeting.

“Fine,” Sabium said. He slowly uncurled himself from his throne and leaned close to me. I refused to lean away.

“Be very careful,” he murmured. “We both know you have more to lose than I do.”

He turned and strolled away, leaving me trembling.

The child had green eyes. And somehow, whenever I was walking the castle grounds, he would be there. Always having escaped some maid or nanny.

I would ignore him when I could. When there were eyes on us, I would do the bare minimum required to avoid the worst of the rumors.

Each time I saw him, fury burned through me, and a headache pounded behind my eyes. I would hand him back to whichever nanny was chasing him with a close-lipped smile and retreat to my rooms, where I would lie in bed for hours.

Eventually, I stopped my walks outside, furious that my one joy had been taken from me.

And then he began finding me inside the castle.

He was two winters. Iknewhe wasn’t hunting me himself. That was ludicrous. Either Sabium was playing games—taunting me with this slow torture—or there was someone else responsible.

If it wasn’t Sabium…whoever had decided to play with me this way would die screaming for mercy. In my quiet moments in that bed, I lost myself to fantasies of a body swinging from the gallows, turning to ash in flames, or dragged behind my favorite horse.

Perhaps there was some accident the child could have. I could plan for it to happen while I was away from the castle. A quick fall, a snapped neck, and I would finally be able to walk the grounds once more.

Sabium would know. He always knew. And he wouldn’t grant me a quick death. No, he would make sure my death lasted for weeks.

The only solace I had was my library. I would spend hours in there each day, in my favorite chair, ignoring the courtiers who attempted to gain my favor.

And hiding from a child.

Until one day, I heard a familiar sound.

Chortling.

Tiny feet padding on wood. Irritation warred with rage. He rounded the corner, steadying himself on a shelf, and his face lit up.

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